


Hurts So Bad (But It Feels So Good)

by DenmarkStreetGutterClub



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Consensual, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dom!Robin, Dom/sub, F/M, Grinding, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Safewords, badboy!Strike, cum tasting, sub!Strike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenmarkStreetGutterClub/pseuds/DenmarkStreetGutterClub
Summary: Strike has been a very bad boy and Robin shows him who's in charge. Light bondage and light dom/sub with a fluffy ending!
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Hurts So Bad (But It Feels So Good)

**Author's Note:**

> Can you find a nod to another Gutter Club fic in this story? 👀

Cormoran Strike groaned as he pulled himself up from his computer chair late in the evening. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon conducting research on one of the agency’s newer cases and the office had cleared out hours prior. His legs were stiff as he shuffled over to the window for a cigarette. 

After a few moments, he heard the outer office door slam shut and the sound of high heels making their way across the floor. What he noticed, even more, was the lack of Robin’s usual friendly greeting. _This could only mean one thing_...a tingle of pleasure made its way down Strike’s spine and settled in his lower belly. He could feel a stirring at his groin at the thought of what was about to happen. Strike quickly stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and looked toward the door, waiting for her to make her entrance.

The door opened and she entered, a vision of the sexiest kind, even though she was largely covered. His eyes immediately fell downward. Strike rather admired the uncharacteristically black high heels that she’d worn, and his eyes traveled up her stockinged calf that he very much wanted to sink his teeth into. The stockings went all the way up over her knees and were covered by her usual light brown trench coat. He wondered what, if anything, awaited him beneath it. 

“Strike,” she murmured, half in greeting, half in reprimand. He paid no mind to her as his eyes traveled the rest of the way up her tantalizing form, just barely hidden from him beneath her coat. “ _Strike,_ ” she said a little more firmly, the tone in her voice grasping his attention. “My eyes are up _here,”_ she reminded him, gesturing to her face.

When his eyes finally met hers, Robin could see them, deep brown and blazing with lust. 

“What have I told you about looking me in the eyes when I address you?”

“I’m not sure I remember...maybe you should remind me.”

Robin took a step toward him and she was close enough for him to catch the smell of her Narciso, which radiated a warm, floral scent. She was close enough to press herself against him, but instead, he felt her grip in a much more...concentrated area.

Her hand encompassed him through his trousers, strong and warm. Her grasp was firm, though did not hurt. He could tell she meant business. With one hand at his hardening manhood, the other rose to his chin, where she placed a single finger and dragged his eyes up to meet hers. “I said, that you are to look me _directly_ in the eyes. You are also to follow my directions and address me properly. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Strike whispered.

“I can’t hear you, Strike. You’re going to have to speak a little louder.”

He cleared his throat and projected, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Very good. Now. Sit,” she ordered, releasing him from her clutch and leading him gently toward his desk chair. 

“I take it we’re about to have a very private partner’s meeting, then?” Strike muttered under his breath. 

“Yes. _I’ll_ be running today’s meeting,” she said coolly and confidently. Strike felt a shiver run down his spine at the tone of her words, and he bit back the needy whine that threatened to escape his lips. 

Robin walked behind Strike and out of his line of sight. He heard the pulling of a buckle and the whipping of fabric and turned his head slightly to try and see what she was up to. He was caught before he could turn back around. 

“Eyes front!” she barked at him. “Hands back.” 

Strike immediately obeyed, placing both hands behind him. He felt a piece of cloth wrap around his wrists and tighten as Robin’s nimble fingers worked to secure his hands in place.

She returned in front of him, this time, her trench coat was gaping open in the front and the tie was missing from around her waist. Beneath, Strike could see the dark fabric and straps of her lingerie and felt his cock twitch in response. He bit his lip and looked up to see Robin raising a leg to place one stilettoed foot on top of his desk. She gently hooked a finger beneath his stubbled chin once more and brought his gaze upward.

“Safeword?” she asked, her voice soft and steady. He saw a glimmer of his sweet, demure Robin when she asked.

Strike swallowed hard. “Redbreast.”

“Very good,” she nodded approvingly before releasing his chin. “And have you been a good boy?”

Strike glared daggers at Robin, his eyes practically on fire. They hadn’t discussed pet names, but fuck, if he didn’t what to be on his best behavior for her.

“Y-yes…” he stumbled, attempting to keep eye contact with her.

“See, I don’t think you have...because good boys _don’t_ get hard at work. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He looked down to the generous bulge that had formed in his trousers, then back up to Robin. “But-”

“- _Wouldn’t_ you _agree_?” she repeated. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, dropping her foot from the desk and back to the floor. In one swift movement, she removed her coat and hung it behind the door, revealing the entirety of her lingerie. Strike felt himself practically salivating over the view of her from behind. Her arse was on full display, looking delectable in the smallest black knickers he’d ever seen, accompanied by a corset-style lingerie top that laced all the way up her back, revealing her glimpses of soft, pale skin beneath it. She wore black lace-trimmed stockings that stopped at her upper thigh and led down to tall, black heels that gave her a commanding presence as she hovered above him. 

The front of her was just as appealing as the back, if not more so. The corset was tight against her curves, accentuating all the right places, especially her breasts, which were creamy and perfect. 

Cormoran didn’t say a word as he watched Robin lean against his desk. “I think that means I’m going to have to punish you, Strike.” He watched hungrily as she slid her knickers over her thighs and down her legs, leaving them where they landed. She then hopped up on his desk, knocking things to the ground in the process. She spread her legs open for him and gave him her command. 

“Mouth. Here.”

Strike groaned in pleasure. If this was his punishment, he was going to have to misbehave more frequently. He delightfully dropped his face to her cunt, which was already warm and inviting. He was immediately frustrated by the lack of ability to use his hands and growled, plunging his tongue into her molten core. She tasted salty and sweet simultaneously, and was growing wetter by the moment. Strike moved his tongue all about, in a pattern that he knew should drive her crazy. He felt her hand grasp his hair and tug deliciously.

The pulling sensation at his scalp only spurned him on to help her find her release. She let out a loud moan as his tongue brushed over her most sensitive spot. He concentrated his efforts in the place he knew was most likely to make her fall apart. He built up a steady rhythm, swirling and sucking at her clit until he could feel her thighs tense around him, her breathing quicken, and her head fall back against the desk. 

With one last series of alternating licks and sucks, Strike brought her over the edge, causing her to cry out to him. He did his best to both watch her and see her through her orgasm, which proved to be difficult without the use of his hands. 

After the waves of her orgasm had subsided, and Robin's body fell slack against the desk, he lapped at her essence, tasting the fruits of his hard labor, of his punishment. She tasted and smelled amazing, a heady combination that nearly overwhelmed him. But he stayed the course, licking at her until she sat up and pulled his head up to look at her.

“You did so well,” she purred. “Such a fantastic performance deserves a reward, don't you agree?”

“Yesss…...please,” Strike hissed, his cock throbbing for release beneath his trousers. 

“Do you want to come?” 

He nodded mutely before correcting himself. “Yes, ma'am.”

Leaning forward and placing her hands on his shoulders for balance, she straddled across his lap, first one leg, then the other. 

He gave her a puzzled look, then she answered his silent question. “You're going to come just like this,” she told him, nearly breathless. 

He felt his cock strain again the zipper of his trousers at the feel of her warm heat against him. He bucked his hips up into her, surprising even her as he continued, searching for any friction he could find. The fabric of his trousers rubbing against his length beneath Robin's dripping cunt felt better than he'd ever imagined.

Giving himself over to her, he threw back his head and closed his eyes as he fucked up against her, pressure building at the base of his spine. It wasn’t long before his pace quickened and his breath stuttered, and he released a wild grunt with every thrust against her. 

Between dragging breaths and the undulation of his hips, he asked for permission. “Please, can I come?”

She smiled down at him lovingly and nodded. “Look at me when you come,” Robin told him.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, even if he wanted to. He could feel the moment when the pressure became too much and knew he was falling. He gave a few final thrusts before exploding beneath her, releasing a string of expletives as his orgasm ripped through him.

“Is that what you wanted?” she rasped in his ear as he came, her breath quivering, though her voice commanding. “Did you want me to make you come all over yourself?”

All Strike could do was groan in reply, while pressing his forehead against her heart as he rutted up against her.

He felt a hot stream of cum release from his swollen cock with each press of his hips into her pelvis. There was a sticky warmth at his groin that felt both satisfying and humiliating all at once. The feeling of his trousers, and Robin, and his cum was nearly too much. 

Robin's fingers tugged at his hair, yanking his head back to look at her. Her eyes were blazing, near angry with lust. “I asked you a question,” she hissed.

His own eyes were raging, blinded with stars following his explosive orgasm. He gritted his teeth and braced his hands on her hips. 

“Yes,” he growled, rutting up against her one final time. 

She tugged harder. “Yes, _what?”_

“Yes _ma'am,”_ Strike replied almost sarcastically. The sly grin on his face did not go unnoticed by Robin. 

“You like being a mess, don't you?”

“ _Fuck,_ Robin, _please,”_ Strike begged as he threw his head back against the chair, his hips moving in a slow wave beneath her cunt. She was hot and wet from the combination of her own arousal, and the cum that had seeped through his trousers. 

“That's _not_ an answer,” she growled, before clamping her teeth down hard on Strike's earlobe. He hissed at the sharpness of the bite and gritted out a prolonged sound of agreement. 

“Words. Now.” 

“Yes, I like being a mess, _ma’am._ ” 

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Now tell me you want to taste it,” she demanded, looking at him expectantly. If she thought he’d be surprised by this, it didn’t register in her expression. She remained focused and neutral and Strike could tell she meant every word.

“I wa…” he trailed off slightly, clearing his throat. “I want to taste it.”

“Such a nasty boy, coming all over yourself like that,” Robin told him as she dismounted from him, revealing a rather generous wet spot on his trousers. She looked at him and laughed as she undid his belt buckle and fly. “Up,” she ordered, and Strike obediently raised his arse so she could yank his trousers down over his thighs. They fell into a pool at his feet as Robin sank to her knees before him. 

He was suddenly very aware of his flaccid dick, covered in cum as the cool air hit his skin. Robin’s face sank down to his pelvis and he felt her mouth cover his cock, her tongue running over and flicking against the softened shaft and head. Strike groaned and threw his head back, relishing the feel of her wet mouth against his sensitive skin. He felt himself begin to harden once more and looked downward. 

“What is this?” she asked, as she pulled back from his half-solid cock and looked at him with disdain. “First you expect me to clean up your mess, then you expect me to get you off _again_? Or do you just like being so filthy that I have to clean up after you. Does that turn you on?”

Strike gritted his teeth as she lowered her head once more and licked and sucked the thick white cum off his thigh. He practically whined as he watched her swallow it down in one go. After giving his cock one more thorough licking, she rose to her feet and stood in between his legs. Robin climbed into his lap to straddle him once more and at a closer distance, he could see that her lips glistened with his semen.

Not knowing what to expect, he groaned both at the thrill of being in a complete lack of control, and at the anticipation of tasting himself. He wetted his lips as she leaned her head down to kiss him. Her tongue plunged into his mouth at full-force and he could feel his seed on her lips, which were salt-laden and tangy in taste. He hungrily consumed her mouth, finally earning a piece of her that he knew he deserved. Strike bit and sucked at her lower lip and growled as his own tongue sought hers, delivering sloppy, wet, delicious kisses. 

When their kisses gradually slowed, Robin murmured his safeword to let him know that she was done. She leaned back to look at him. Robin felt her face begin to grow hot and buried it into Strike's neck. 

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” Strike asked, turning his face to kiss her cheek.

Robin pulled back and looked at him once more. It was then that Strike noticed an adorable pink flush covering her neck and cheeks. He grinned up at her lovingly. “Ah, I see,” he told her in understanding.

“Was I awful?” she asked him, worrying her lower lip in her teeth. 

“At what point did I give you that impression?” Strike chuckled, amused. 

“Well, I just felt like I was being mean to you,” Robin protested.

“You were _not_ being mean. You were being firm and direct, which is exactly what I asked for. Thank you for indulging me,” he told her, kissing her on the nose. “Now, will you please release me, so I can hold you properly?”

“Oh God, sorry!” she exclaimed, scrambling off of him to untie his hands. 

Once he was free, Strike grabbed her by the waist and pulled her across his lap holding her and kissing her softly. “If it was horrible and uncomfortable, we never have to do it again, though for what it's worth, I thought you were phenomenal and sexy,” he told her, while nuzzling his face against her cheek. “I was hard the moment I heard your heels on the floor. I also like that you checked in and asked my safeword, even though we weren't planning on needing one tonight.”

Robin nodded in acknowledgment. “It wasn't _terrible._ I suppose I did enjoy being in charge for once. I'm sure I'll start to feel more comfortable with practice...lots and lots of practice. But maybe next time, _you_ can be the boss?” she asked, hopeful.

Strike's hearty laugh shook Robin, and she smiled back at him. “Deal,” he agreed. He was forever in constant amazement at the woman he loved, and she never ceased to surprise him. 


End file.
